Claire (2 page)

“Opposite of true!” Claire blurted, stealing one of Alicia’s lines.

“Whaddaya mean?” Sari play-smacked Claire’s arm. “It tanked.”

Claire burst out laughing. “I mean the part about
losing
me was opposite of true. I
know
the movie tanked.”

They all cracked up a little more than necessary. And Claire couldn’t help wondering if it was a way for them to release the stress that had been building up inside each one of them over the last year. Stress that came from constantly wondering if your best friend had found someone better.

But as they slapped the daisy-covered bed and wiped the giggle-tears from their eyes, the answer was obvious. They were getting their groove back. And things would stay that way, as long as Claire could show them that Massie and the Pretty Committee hadn’t changed her a bit. Which wouldn’t be
too
hard, right?

577 PEACH WILLOW DRIVE
KISSIMMEE, FL

Monday, August 3 8:09 A.M.

The giant thermometer screwed to the side of Mrs. VanDeusen’s screen door read eighty-three degrees. Still, the old woman’s petite white Chihuahua was shivering like he had just pioneered a night trek through the Himalayas.

Next door, a beige garage door groaned open, allowing a matching beige minivan to reverse down the smooth black driveway.

“I know how you feel, Piper.” Claire knelt on the grassy front yard at the end of a Fisher Price–littered cul-de-sac. She lifted the frail puppy. His ribs were one missed meal away from total exposure. “I shook like that in Westchester. Mostly from the cold, but partly from the people.” She giggled softly.

Piper blinked his bulging black eyes and licked Claire’s cheek sympathetically.

“Awwww, thanks.” She hugged the pup. “But you don’t have to worry about me.” Gently, she placed him on the warm pavement and wrapped the leopard-print leash around her wrist. “I’ve adapted.”

Inside the minivan two girls, both younger than Claire, pointed at her and laughed. They were probably wondering if she was really talking to a dog.

With a light tug, Claire let Piper know it was time to move. Piper responded with a soft sneeze and a lively prance.

The thirty-minute walk paid thirteen dollars: seven to T-Odd Jobs, Inc., and the remaining six to Claire. Instead of feeling bitter about the inequitable split, she tried to put the time to good use by taking photos. The topic of the day was always the same:
Things I’ll miss when I’m back in Westchester.
Whenever Piper stopped to sniff a flower or lick a flattened piece of street gum, Claire grabbed the Canon Elph out of her pear green cargo skirt and searched for things she’d stop seeing come September.

Two majestic palm trees standing side by side, like life-crushes.

Click.

A water rainbow in the Bennetts’ sprinkler.

Click.

Her brown and pink polka-dot Keds.

Click.

Just then, Claire’s red rhinestone–encrusted special-edition
Dial L for Loser
cell phone indicated that she had a text.

Kuh-laire!

It was Massie’s personalized ringtone. Something she had recorded before they parted ways for the summer. Funny how what had sounded like an insult only a year ago suddenly felt endearing.

Her hands shaking like Piper’s, Claire turned off the camera. After three days of no messages, an I-miss-u text seemed unlikely.

She led Piper to a crushed graham cracker on the sidewalk outside the Hobsons’ house and sat on the curb. Once the dog was occupied, Claire inhaled deeply and opened the message.

Massie:
Back 2 skl shopping list. For PC eyes only. Delete after purchasing.

ACCEPTABLE JEANS: J Brand, Joe’s, Earnest Sewn, True Religion, Page, William Rast, AG, Rich & Skinny. ACCEPTABLE TOPS: C&C, Vince, DVF, Splendid, L.A.M.B., Theory, Ralph (Alicia!), Ella Moss, Marc, and Juicy. Anything vintage as long as it doesn’t smell like cat pee, moth balls, or old lady.

FOOTWEAR: Uggs (weekends only), Marc, Michael Kors, Calvin, anything sold on 7th floor of Barneys, no Keds!

MAKEUP: Must be bought at a DS (that’s department store, not drugstore, Kuh-laire!). Anything by Be Pretty cosmetics is off-limits. They’re dead 2 me.

ALSO OFF-LIMITS: All things shiny. Shiny is my back-to-school look. Anything purchased before June of this year (except vintage and jewelry.) Don’t buy any silver charm bracelets from Tiffany. . . . You’ll understand why when I see you.

Text w/questions.

35 days till we’re 2gether! YAYYYY! TTYL.

Piper yapped once at a circling bee before swatting at it with his front paw. He missed, then licked the ground where his cracker had been. Claire sighed. Why couldn’t her life be that simple? Instead, she had wasted most of her summer working for Todd. And for
what
? A grand total of $167.70?
Gawsh!
The only thing she could afford on Massie’s list was something vintage . . . from the Salvation Army. And
maybe
the cost of dry cleaning it.

More than anything, Claire wanted to text Kristen and ask—in total pinky-sworn confidence—how she, being financially challenged as well, could afford the things on the list? But she resisted. What if Kristen told? Reminding Massie that Claire couldn’t keep up might jeopardize her place in the Pretty Committee. And who wanted to start eighth grade off like
that
? Especially when she was already getting the silent treatment from Cam.

Instead, Claire texted Massie back using the Visa philosophy of “buy now, pay later.” Or in her case, “
lie
now, pay later.”

Off to the mall ASAP! Wish U were here.

Once the message was sent, Claire bit her longest nail, wondering just
how
much she’d have to pay.

Another text.

Amnesia much? I AM here! Let’s do it!

Claire’s heart tightened and curled into the fetal position.
Here?
Massie was
here
? How was that possible? She re-read the text, hoping to see a “JK
.”

BTW call me Amandy. Everyone at camp did. It makes me sound 16, right?

Claire checked her screen. MANDY! It said MANDY! She’d accidentally sent her text to Mandy. Not Massie! She was free to wear machine washables and slip-ons for thirty-five more days.

Claire wiggled her toes happily inside her Keds and bent down to hug Piper. He coughed once, then puked graham cracker.

Mandy: Right?

Claire: Right! Luv the new name!

With renewed purpose, Claire tugged Piper’s leash. One more lap around the block and she’d be six dollars richer. It wouldn’t get her any closer to a Massie-approved wardrobe, but it
would
get her a medium bag of sours at the Candy Baron and a large raspberry Slushee.

Mandy: At camp we were SAS: Sarah+Amandy+Sari.

Now that UR back we can B SACS!

Claire: Finally a SACS i can afford to be in

Mandy: LOL!

A geyser of 100 percent pure
yay
-water shot through Claire’s body. She was part of her Florida group again. The awkward readjustment period had officially ended.

Mandy: Wait until Miss Kiss! We’re going 2 dominate!!!

Claire was about to text back to remind her friend that they were too young to enter the local pageant. But then she remembered—they were
twelve
. They qualified! All the years they’d spent honing their special talents, de-frizzing each other’s hair, practicing their puckers . . . and now it was here. They were finally eligible to compete in the local teen Miss Kissimmee beauty pageant and—

Ugh
.

Suddenly, a tangle of uneasy feelings corked up Claire’s
yay
-water geyser. She rubbed her belly while Piper lifted his shaky hind leg and peed on the tire of a royal blue Honda Accord.
Why the sudden stomach pit?
The Miss Kissimmee pageant was something they’d dreamed of for as long as she could remember—hair, makeup, clothes, press, prizes, competition . . .

Double ugh! Competition
. That was it! There were endless stories of lifetime BFFs who broke up over Miss Kiss. Just last summer it had happened to identical twins. The Bernard sisters, who to this day denied being related. And after the year she’d just spent in Westchester, the last thing Claire wanted was to compete with her best friends.

Mandy: I’ll call SS and we’ll go shop 4 R qualifying gowns.

Claire: I’ll be UR manager.

Mandy: ?????

Claire: I’m moving. If I won, which I so wouldn’t, it’s not like i’d be able to go to the food court openings or football parades anyway.

Mandy: What about the $$$$.

Claire: ? $.

Mandy: $1000 4 1st prize!

Claire stopped so suddenly Piper practically choked. She couldn’t take her eyes off Amandy’s text. One thousand dollars! Piper started licking her big toe, and Claire started eating her words. “What’s a little healthy competition between friends?”

KISSIMMEE VALUE OUTLET SHOPS
KISSIMMEE, FL

Monday, August 3 11:16 A.M.

After promising to meet Amandy’s mother at the Nike outlet in thirty minutes, SACS hurried into Dress Barn. A cold blast of air-conditioning stung their bare arms and promised to keep them alert while they navigated rows of bright patterns and durable knits. And the instrumental version of “4 Minutes” by Madonna, Justin Timberlake, and Timbaland guaranteed they’d have a good time doing it.

“Gather.” Amandy stopped below a mannequin wearing a brown and green polka-dot dress and gold sandals. She scanned the store like she was searching for eavesdroppers, and smiled when she realized they were the only pageant-worthy customers. “I’ve done some research on Miss Kiss, and in the spirit of sisterly love, I’m going to share.”

“Ready!” Sarah pulled a Bic pen out of her short curly blond hair and held it above her palm. Sari gave her a thumbs-up as if to say,
Good job for staying on top of the whole note-taking thing.

The S’s were wearing slightly different shades of pink tank tops, and their cutoff jean shorts were covered in glitter hearts made up of their signature colors: pink for Sari and orange for Sarah. A camp art project, no doubt. Amandy, however, had chosen to memorialize her summer with a wristful of colorful boondoggle and macramé bracelets. They added a cool, rugged touch to her adorable periwinkle blue J.Crew cotton sundress.

Claire felt a flash of jealousy.
Why had she ever let Massie convince her that homemade jewelry was unattractive?
Braided leather would have looked so edgy with her mint green cargo mini and yellow cap-sleeve Ella Moss tee (a hand-me-down from Dylan).

“Get this,” Amandy whispered, a thin blue vein bulging along her temple. “In the past five years, the girls who qualified for the pageant were all wearing fruit-colored dresses. No earth tones. No solid white. No black.” She snickered, then rolled her blue eyes. “As if we would ever.”

Sari leaned over Sarah’s hand to make sure she was getting all of this.

“What about patterns?” Sarah lifted her pen.

“No one ever got rejected for wearing florals, put it that way.” Amandy smoothed her thick dark brows as if all this free advice was taking its toll.

“And length? Because it’s super important to get the right length, because I mean, it could be at the ankle or at the knee or above the knee, or I mean even midcalf. I just want to make sure, you know?” Sari asked while stuffing a handful of candy corn in her mouth. Instinctively, she held out the Ziploc for the others, and everyone helped themselves. A delicious rush of sugar went straight to Claire’s jaw. First chewy, then grainy, then liquidy sweet. The overall sensation was kind and loving—a welcome change from the sharp, spiteful corners of the low-fat Baked Lays she’d been snacking on all summer.